Autumn Sorrows
by ariescelestial
Summary: Alice and Yuri spend a moment alone.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Shadow Hearts. Umh….yeah.

Spoilers for the first Shadow Hearts.

* * *

The bible falls to the floor and Alice grins sheepishly in case anyone has noticed. Almost everyone is ahead of her though. She leans over to pick up the holy book and becomes lightheaded, almost falling but for Yuri's hands catching her shoulders.

"What's wrong?"

"I felt a little dizzy," she explains as she picks up the bible. "Thank y—ooohh!"

Margarete spins around and raises her gun, but sighs when she sees what caused the scream: Yuri lifted her up into his arms, startling her. The blushing exorcist is now trying in vain to cover her panties again. "Yuri," Margarete says, for once serious, "This is not the time to make out with your girlfriend."

"Metagod could come anyti—"

"Yeah, yeah," Yuri says, interrupting Keith, "but Alice and me need to talk. Feel free to start without us."

"Yuri!"

He ignores them, intent on the woman in his arms. "Yuri," she murmurs, but he waits until they are far enough away from the others to set her down.

"Now. What's wrong?"

Alice fluffs her skirt to stall for time. "Nothing is wrong. I only felt dizzy."

"You've been off all day," Yuri says, then quickly adds, "No offense, I mean, but you have. Are you hurt?"

"Wouldn't I heal myself if I was?" Alice points out, pleased to hear a neutral tone. He can't get suspicious now, she's worked so hard to keep it from him—besides, the others are right, they're low on time.

"Are you sick?" Yuri grabs her shoulder and pushes aside her bangs, feeling her forehead. "You're warm."

Her body is slowly dying and though her mind knows, at the core there is a basic refusal to taste death, a clinging to life. It's all she's running on, now that her soul has been captured. "I'm fine."

"Alice, I'm serious. If you're this sick—"

"I am not sick!"

"You get dizzy, you're hot, you're pale, you almost fainted back there with that monster. You're sick."

Alice folds her arms. There is no dissuading him; at least he believes it is illness, not the curse. "So I have a little fever. Really, Yuri, you're making a mountain out of a molehill."

"But if you collapse again—" He stops. She can see the unwelcome thoughts flit across his eyes, like his demons often do. "You shouldn't be fighting."

She sighs. She knows he's worried about her, really, she'd be grateful if he was doing this at any other time, not now when it no longer matters. "Yuri, in case I have not made it clear, I am going to keep fighting. What are you going to do about it?"

"Stop you from doing something stupid. This is bad, Alice, something's wrong. What if we're fighting against Albert and you get ki—"

"It wouldn't matter!"

"Of course it would!" She presses her fingers against her eyelids as he yells, certain the others can hear him. She's ruined it. It wasn't going to work from the start. "How the hell would it not matter!"

"It wouldn't matter," she repeats, wishing she could leave it at that. But she also wants to keep fighting and he will not let her unless she tells. "The Masks made their claim." She lowers her hands and looks at him. She cares enough to fight for him, yes, and she hopes to God he knows that by now, because now is the time to fight for everyone else. Because she wants to help everyone, she cannot delay his pain any longer. She has to tell him. "I am going to die."

Yuri's mouth opens, then closes. Other than that there's no reaction. He stands still, watching her. It is not that he is in denial, or that he is taking it well. He hasn't comprehended her words yet. She knows he understands when there is a sudden tightening in her chest. He sits down so quickly something cracks in his back pocket when his rear end hits the floor. It's his voodoo doll. Zhuzhen told him not to keep it there.

Alice bursts out laughing, asking, "What are you doing?", terrified of his reaction. It is nothing more or less than what she expected, but she had hoped to be wrong. She didn't want to see him like this again, as he really is: an autumn leaf, so easily shook from its branch.

Finally he tears his eyes from the floor to look at her.

"What do you want?"

"I want…" she stumbles, unnerved by the coldness of his tone. "I want to help my mother and my uncle. And right now the only way to do that is take down the Float before the alien finds it. So please, Yuri…we need to stop Albert Simon."

He nods. It's not a sign of agreement, but one of acknowledgment. As he rises, a wooden arm falls to the floor. Alice averts her eyes while Yuri picks out each brittle limb of the voodoo doll from his pocket.

"Yuri, there's one more thing—please don't tell anyone else," Alice says. Margarete may know but no one else needs to. "I don't want to make them upset."

"Sure thing," he answers, with a chuckle that sounds more like he's gagging.

That's why she doesn't want anyone else to know—it's painful enough knowing how badly she's hurt him. Everyone else is leaving soon; if she lives long enough, they will never know at all. If they never hear from her again they may shrug and shake their heads at losing touch. Only Margarete would suspect. But Alice's stomach clenches as she realizes Yuri will stand over her grave, if not in real life then in his nightmares of the graveyard. And that is what she will become for him: a little grave, nothing more, and marble white so in the darkest of nights it will stand out all the more.

There is no sound and Alice realizes Yuri has been done for a while. He stands with his hands jammed into his back pockets and his legs planted firmly, in what could be a defiant stance if his head weren't bowed. He is completely still.

"Yuri, I'm not dead yet."

He looks up at her and his eyes are hard. She thought he'd been crying, but this aloof expression saddens her more than tears could have. "I know," he says; _but you're already dead to me_ goes unsaid.

She cannot blame him. She traded her life for his, with the hope that her companionship could bring him joy. It's taken her a long time to realize that making him happier now would deepen his misery when she is gone.

"We don't have much time left."


End file.
